


Damn Fool

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, It's All For Jim's Own Good, Multi, Oral Sex, Plans, Scheming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is in need of a little reckless behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrighteyedJill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Jill!

Jim was not exactly sure if it was possible to be this drunk and still exist as a person. 

“'s not, so shut up,” Dean said, his voice muffled by his close proximity to Jim's stomach. 

Ah, he'd gone to the point where he wasn't even sure whether he was thinking something or saying it out loud. That could go either really good, or really bad, either way, really fast.

Dean's mouth suddenly sliding hot and wet down his cock dispelled the confusion swirling through Jim's brain in favor of animal sensation. The low growl in Dean's throat made Jim reach down to fist his hand in Dean's hair, drawing a deeper, darker sound out of him and making Jim's hips lift involuntarily. 

A noise intruded at the same time Dean's tongue traced a line up the vein on the underside of Jim's cock, and he put everything he had into ignoring it. He _needed_ this, legs spread wide and shamelessly on either side of Dean's shoulders, his free arm flung out and grasping at nothing, arching and gasping and _aching_ to have things happen to him.

A noise intruded again, but Dean's lips had parted over the head of his cock, tongue darting to taste him and then slipped lower, engulfing him, and there was nothing Jim wanted more in the world.

“-Jim, dammit, answer me when I comm you-.” The door swooshed open and shut, Leonard McCoy's complaint preceding him and then stopping abruptly as the door sealed itself on his heels. Len took in the sight of Jim on the bed, a stranger between his thighs, and the empty bottles of booze scattered around the room in a single glance, and his mouth tightened in anger.

Jim felt his dick harden even more in Dean's mouth as Len glared down at him, eyes hot and shadowed. Any fear he might have felt was long since drowned at the bottom of a bottle two bars ago, and all he could think to do was smile in invitation. Len turned to Dean, who hadn't stopped sucking for a second and looked up and down his semi-naked body. While Jim had managed to get entirely bare, Dean had only taken off his shirt and loosened his belt, and all of that with extreme haste.

“And who are you?” Len asked, his tone sounding remarkably normal until you saw the tension in his back.

“Dean Winchester. Hunter from Krestar,” Dean said, pulling off Jim long enough to talk. He took his fist and slowly stroked Jim as he talked, smoothly working with Jim's mindlessly pumping hips. “Your boy was drinking alone. We had a... little drinking contest.” 

It wasn't fair that Dean could form coherent thoughts, Jim thought.

Len's fast, light, stinging slap on Jim's cheek reminded him that he was still spouting his brain off without a filter. Len had to feel the heat that spread over his flesh from ten feet away.

“And you won?” Len asked, his tone going dangerous.

Dean just grinned and took another casual suck of Jim's cock before answering, skillfully evading Jim's attempts to get deeper before answering Len. “We both won. Your boy needs some tending.”

Len looked down at Jim, his hand sliding down his scalp, and then fisting his hair tightly in his hand. From that confined position, Jim nodded just a little, and knew his eyes were blown and dark.

“He gets needy when he's drunk. He should know better than to go drinking alone by now. He never knows what he's going to pick up,” Len said, and Dean chuckled in agreement, unashamed. Len nodded in a small show of respect, and Dean bent his mouth to Jim's cock again, his eyes fixed on Len. Jim's breath shuddered out of him as Dean hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and his head went back in Len's grasp. Len knelt down to put his mouth by Jim's ear as Dean picked up the pace, matching Jim's body as he tried to get deeper into the slick, possessive heat.

“I brought another bottle of whiskey with me,” Len said, just loud enough for Dean to hear over the sounds he was creating. Jim turned to look at Len, his mouth slack and open, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I should make you drink it, since you like this so much. Drink after drink, burning down your throat, making your head swim so you don't even know who's here or what we're doing to you. Until you're so drunk you don't even know who's using your body, or what I'm charging them for the privilege. Until you're so far gone that you're nearly dead and I'm the only one would could bring you back.”

Len's fingers reached out to brush Jim's lips, and Jim moved to take them into his mouth, needing the solidity inside him. He wasn't even thinking, a rush of _yes yes yes_ swimming around in his brain somewhere, and he was so, so, so far gone, and Len was smiling in a way that made Jim feel like his skin was on fire and his heart was about to burst.

Jim's eyes flicked down to see one of Dean's hands was out of sight, moving rhythmically between his legs. His sucking intensified until Jim's eyes rolled up and he arched with the pleasurable agony of trying to hold back. Dean groaned first, sliding Jim all the way down his throat as he sagged forward, and Len pulled his fingers out of Jim's mouth to crush them together in a hard kiss, fragrant with alcohol. Jim poured his sounds into Len as the hot spike of pleasure made him spasm and come down Dean's throat.

“You damn fool,” Len whispered for Jim's ears alone. Dean pulled away and struggled back to his knees, face flushed, and smiled beatifically. Then slumped on the carpeted floor, eyes already closing. “Damn fool,” Len repeated, shaking his head slightly.

“But he was better,” Jim said, half a statement, half a question.

Len looked around the rented room, the number of bottles, the PADD half-concealed beneath Jim's civilian clothes. It was flashing with a notice of missed messages, starting with the admiral's expression of sympathy. Len turned back to check over Jim's body, free from blood and remarkably clear of bruises.

“He was better,” Len allowed, and then tapped Jim's cheek again, hard enough for him to feel it. “We'll talk again in the morning.” Jim smiled again, and let go, drifting into sleep as darkness claimed him. Len sighed and rose to his feet, knees popping. Dean's eyes opened at the sound, and he raised an eyebrow at Len.

“Good job,” Len said, finally letting out a sigh of relief he'd been holding for days.

“Anytime you're in the system, Doc,” Dean said. “I pay my debts.” He ran his hand down the nearly invisible scar on his shoulder, and then looked back at Jim's slumbering body.

“Me too,” Len said, and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Wasn't a hardship,” Dean added, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Len sighed again, more exasperated this time, and nodded at the other side of the bed.

“Stay.”

Dean stretched himself out on the bed and propped himself up. “I think he will, Doc.”

Len put his hand on Jim's shoulder. “This time, so do I.”


End file.
